The White Shirt
by Fenella Church
Summary: One shot. Gene finds his white shirt not fit for use and reminisces about the time he was in Alex's flat and they were dancing so close. Rated M for safety.


_A/N This fic didn't want to be published- almost as if unseen forces were pulling against it. I uploaded it this morning but it plunged off into the ether. It is set partly on the night before that most horrid, horrendous , terrible day and partly on the day itself, and rewrites pretty much all of the last episode of Ashes to Ashes, of which I own nothing :)_

The White Shirt.

.

He was running late as usual, and had to dash upstairs for a change of clothes. The suit was there on a hanger, pristine and fresh from the dry cleaners, but he didn't seem to have a clean white shirt. Cursing under his breath he rummaged in the wardrobe. Sodding overfull cupboards, he needed to sort them out. He grabbed the shirt, and as he did a delicate but never forgotten scent drifted towards him. He closed his eyes and sighed. The memories flooded back and his mouth twitched.

'Bloody nora Bolly.' he muttered, putting the shirt to his face for a second . He grabbed the bottle of Black Label whisky and poured three inches into a tumbler and sat on the edge of the bed, thinking of the night when he had last worn the suit and white shirt.

They were dancing close because she had insisted on it. He recalled feeling overdressed because she had changed into more casual stuff after their dinner date had come to an abrupt end (when Tsitsi had sent everything tits up at the South African Embassy). So he looked and felt like a right bloody ponce- he remembered it so well, like it was yesterday...

...

...Gene couldn't believe it but he knew he was going to kiss her, their mouths were almost touching, not a hair's breadth between them, he was having happy visions of the impending tonsil tennis , moving in for the kill,when suddenly there was a sharp rap on the door.

They sprung apart, Alex's eyes were wide, her chest heaving, 'Wait in the bedroom, I'll get rid of them.' she told him breathlessly.

Gene stepped back feeling slightly flummoxed, then he straightened up and gathered himself, 'No, it's late, I'm not letting you answer the ruddy door on your own , it could be an axe murderer, could be anybody.'

'Of course it isn't.' Alex said waspily, ' Look- please-just wait in the bedroom-'

'Alex!' Keats called through the door.

Gene shook his head at her before striding to the door and opening it up. 'Hello again Jimbo, fancy seeing you here.'

Keats was clutching an envelope and looking secretive, 'Gene'

'Hello Jim' Alex said brightly.

'I've got something for you.' Keats told her.

'Ah, well if it's work related I'm sure it can wait until morning Sir.' Alex gabbled.

'Don't call 'im Sir' Gene said.

'Don't you have a home to go to?' Keats said.

'I was invited in,' Gene said, giving Keats a wide and false smile. 'things were just beginning to get cosy and you come blundering along with your manilla envelopes, looking all officious. It's late, like the lady said, it can wait until tomorrow.'

'Please Jim.' Alex said.

Keats shook his head, 'Oh you disappoint me Alex. I thought you had more sense.'

Alex felt Gene's hand on the small of her back and knew she wanted him to stay, she moved slightly closer to him, 'We're all very tired.' she said to Keats ,'It's been a long and dreadful week. Tomorrow is another day and whatever you have for me I'll be happy to look at in the morning.'

Gene could have sworn that Keats' eyes turned black as he stood in the doorway being rejected. But he backed off without another word, pulling the collar of the coat up around his neck as he retreated.

.

Alex was sloshing Merlot into glasses, she handed one to Gene, 'Why do I get the feeling I've just taken a side?'

'Because you have.' Gene told her, accepting the glass, 'The right side.'

Alex took a huge gulp of wine, 'Did his eyes looks strange to you? Like he'd been on drugs or something?'

Gene shrugged, 'Dunno, I try not to look at 'im.'

'Oh well, where were we?' her tongue twisted on the words and she giggled nervously.

Gene moved towards her and took the the glass from her hand, 'We were here.' he said, as his lips touched hers. Her arms went up around his neck and he could feel her gorgeous body pressing on his as they kissed on and on, eventually breaking apart to breathe.

'I think it's time for that bedroom you so badly wanted me in now.' Gene said gruffly.

'I think you're right.' Alex whispered.

He lifted her up in his arms and began kissing her again as they went to the bedroom. He had played this scene in his head so many thousands of times and he always imagined it being fast and furious,yet in reality it wasn't that way at all, there was something about the way she clung to him almost dreamily that slowed him right down. He lowered her onto the bed gently and lay down beside her, his arm crooked over her head, pressing slightly on her hair.

'Kiss me then.' she ordered, rescuing her hair as he leaned over.

As they kissed his free hand travelled down her body and rested on her waist, his fingers gripping her, pulling her in.

'Gene' she uttered as they began to take each others clothes off. He smiled almost triumphantly and Alex looked shocked.

'What?' he asked quietly.

"I haven't seen you smile lately.' she replied, as their mouths moved towards each other again.

'Not been much too smile about- 'til now' he said, flicking his tongue at the side of her mouth.

Progress was slow as they couldn't seem to stop kissing, but every so often a garment was flung to one of the four corners of the bedroom.

Outside the brilliant full moon in a clear night sky sent temperatures plummeting and frost crept into even the most sheltered corners of the city. Gene and Alex, in the warmth of the bedroom, were oblivious to anything except each other.

'You know this shouldn't be happening don't you?' Gene pulled back, his mouth slackening at the sight of a nipple escaping from her white lace bra.

'I know you seem to be talking far too much.' Alex replied, lifting herself up so her breast fell out of her bra provocatively, 'I didn't have you down as an all talk and no action kinda guy.'

Gene rescued the wayward breast and weighed it up in his hand, 'You little minx, I'll give you action.' his eyes widened with lust and he dipped his head to the nipple, testing and tasting, as Alex squealed with pleasure and pulled at his shirt, unbuttoning him with trembling fingers. But in the end he was happy to let her take over and be dominant, relaxing on the bed and enjoying the view as she climbed over him. He tried to help her with the removal of her unexpected virgin white knickers and got a face full of her breasts as she arched forward. He couldn't complain at all that sweet smelling flesh so up close and personal and placed his hands on her hips to steady her.

She giggled at his erection, 'Oh Guv, what a very big lad you are.' and the Thatcherite twat from a few years back entered his mind but Gene kicked him back out; that was then and this was now. He satisfied himself with her appreciative groans as she lowered herself onto him and tried not give himself away as he felt himself inside her and wanted to cry out with joy; at last it had happened, she was his, he had won.

Throughout the long winter night they explored every inch of each other and became closer than they had ever been. It felt so natural and good that Gene began to relax for the first time in years. As the new day approached Alex was sitting cross - legged on the bed wearing his crumpled shirt and feeding him pieces of buttered toast.

Gene sipped tea thoughtfully. 'What was it that Keats wanted you to see so badly?'

'I really don't know.' Alex replied.

'You wouldn't be poking and prodding now would you Bolly?' Gene's lips tightened.

'Don't start.' Alex stiffened. You don't own me because we spent the night together you know.'

'When did I ever say I did?' Gene replied, 'Bloody hell, who'd want to own you?, You're nothing but a pain in the proverbial.'

Alex snatched the toast plate out of reach on the bedside table, 'I think you've had enough.' she pouted.

'You can say that again.' Gene said under his breath.

They glared at each other for a few moments until the glaring competition was interrupted by the phone.

Alex grabbed it, 'DI Drake.' she listened for a second or two, 'No I haven't seen him.' she lied, 'OK I'm on my way.' she shrugged at Gene , 'Another day, another dead body or three.' she said, 'Ray's looking for you.'

'I'll need my shirt.' Gene told her.

Alex grabbed her robe before removing the shirt, Gene looked longingly at her warm soft body as she quickly swapped the two and flung the shirt at him. 'I'll use the bathroom first.' she said.

He wanted to argue that they hardly had anything to hide from each other anymore and they may as well share but he could see that much of the intimacy from last night seemed to have evaporated.

He lit a cigarette while he waited to use the bathroom, then he decided impatiently he couldn't wait, 'Drake!' he yelled, 'I'm going to the station.'

'Right' came a muffled reply.

The day had unfolded badly after that. The Harteman brothers and Walter Tavish found hanging upside down with their throats cut. Keats circling like a vulture and talking in quiet corners to Alex; even Ray, Chris and Shaz seemed distant and not on top form; they didn't even take the piss out of him for turning up at the station in clothes worn the night before. Gene felt his team were suddenly anything but, as if somehow there had been a shift towards Keats and Gene couldn't have said how it happened.

Only Alex seemed to be on his side, bringing him steaming sweet coffee, going through the evidence with him, piecing together clues. He could smell himself on her and she could smell herself on him, they were irrevocably intertwined, their eyes collided and they both knew it; you couldn't be that intimate with someone and expect things not to change.

'A word, Alex?' Keats appeared from thin grey air, creepy and determined.

Alex looked at Gene. He nodded, 'Go on, scuttle off with yer boyfriend.'

He watched as Keats took her away, out of the incident room, and wondered why he felt so unsettled. He had a dreadful feeling of impending doom and a huge fuggy cloud seemed to have settled over Fenchurch. Later that day would be remembered as the day it all went Pete Tong, the day Keats completely lost his mind and began ranting and raving, coming out with all sorts of garbage about them all being dead. The Super had had to step in and Keats had been carted away. Gene hadn't a clue who Pete Tong was but Alex had christened the day as such and somehow it had stuck...

...

...'Poor bloody sod' Gene muttered to himself as he held his crumpled shirt with the bleakest expression on his face. The Force could do that to you if you weren't careful.

'Gene!... Gene?... Guv?' yelled Alex.

'I'm up here' Gene yelled back. He heard her high heels clattering on the stairs, her perfume entering the room half a minute before she did.

'Oh for goodness sake, what are you doing? , We'll be late, we're already late.' she scolded, flicking a finger at her newly blow dried hair, making sure it was all in place. ' Shaz will think you've forsaken her. They'll never forgive us if something goes wrong with this wedding.'

'I 'aven't got a clean shirt.' Gene stuck his chin out, 'Your bloody fault, it's got butter and spu... er other unidentifiable residue on it.'

Alex stuck out her chest and pulled her too-tight skirt down a bit, 'Yes well, we've got to stop all that toast in bed malarky , we need to lose a pound or two. You never listen do you?' She rummaged in the wardrobe and pulled out another white shirt, 'There you go, exactly where I told you it was. I'll go fire up the Quattro.'

'You're not driving my car!' Gene protested weakly, but he knew it was useless. He kept it to himself but he bloody loved her bossing him around. He pulled his bottle of Paco Rabanne from the bedroom, went into the bathroom and spruced himself up as best he could, fiddling with the fresh white shirt, hoping he looked respectable enough to give a bride away, then when he was satisfied he looked good and Guv-like, he hurried downstairs to his beautiful Bolly.


End file.
